The wind picked up a bit and it's not a warm breeze anymore. Sea gulls are on the hunt for food above the wuthering sea. It's actually cold. Niall wraps his arms around himself and if he feels the warmth from before still tickling his skin, warming his sentient heart, it's simply the sun.
He's always loved summer.
He refuses to connect that to the phone call with Harry. Though he can't explain what the infinite amounts of butterflys that grace his stomach, have to do with the sun.
He could spent ages here, where's he's at right now. Physically and mentally on this windy balcony by the balustrades; figuring out what Harry's on about, no, what he, himself is on about, for Harry is addicting, the mere thought of seeing him in a few days is addicting. He concluded one night, while watching Harry talk to a crowd, that Harry is not from this earth. Some people just aren't from here and Harry is one of them. The proof lingers in their courage, drips from their voices like honey and wakes up with them every morning.
Niall has been collecting proof for years.
The thought makes his heart skip a beat.
"Niall mate?"
Niall's head whips around and he scrambles to wipe at his eyes as he sees Quentin. Quentin's dressed in ridiculous swimming trunks with the TV remote in his hand. He didn't get sunburnt which is highly unfair. Niall himself probably looks a bit rough around the edges in general, like he's had a heartful cry, which he did, so he hopes they're both content with blaming it on the storm.
"Hey Quentin. Aren't you supposed to be out with Eoghan?"
Niall declined clubbing because he had to process the phone call. While it's easy to swallow his worries with the help of vodka and let them rest at the back of his mind temporarily, he won't do that tonight.
He's not stable enough.
For once, no one is stable while in love.
It's not a convenient time to have a drunken meltdown in the middle of King Street with paps witnessing every moment of it. The wounds are still fresh and they're already speculating enough on paper.
"Nah. Not in the mood for puking my guts out. I'm too old for that anyway."
His face splits into a grin.
"I interupted your sulking sesh, because I ought to mention that there's a documentary about Extraterrestial life on Channel 8 airing right now. Interested?"
Niall exhales slowly and shakes his head.
"What? Having a cry in the pissing rain is better than TV?
"Not if you phrase it like that."
Quentin's simper only broadens at his response. His free hand moves to grip the handle.
"Anyway. I'm gonna head inside real quick and let you philosoph in peace, just don't fall over the fence, yeah?"
Niall watches his friends step inside and shut the window behind him. The TV has been on the whole day, but it began to illuminate the windows just about now.
--
Author's note:
This chapter is short af, for do I not know how to continue right now. I just wanted to give you a little insight in Niall's mind.
It'd be really cool if you'd commented your opinion and left a vote. (It motivates me lmao). Or you can just say hi.
My tumblr: satineglow
YOU ARE READING
Quit (Narry/Heleanor)
Fanfiction" What would Louis say, if he'd saw you like this? " "He'd wonder what's taking you so long " Or when Harry's been secretely pinning after Eleanor since 2011 and all of sudden Niall forgot what platonic meant. Warnings: Adult content, hea...
